Stars Keep The Watch
by Ember Nickel
Summary: Unrelated ficlets for Star Wars Advent Calendar prompts on Tumblr.


Each of these is a standalone, hence the wide mix of characters, eras, and canon-compliance. There are a few nods to some of my other fics but you shouldn't need to have read any of those.

* * *

 _Green and Gold_

The year before, Pooja had counted down the days till Winternight with as much fervency as ever. She'd thrilled at the first snows and even been duped by her parents into helping clean the house under the guise of decoration.

But though she could not have imagined it a solar cycle prior, she was sick of celebrations. Sick of the holovids streaming footage of the Empire's formation, first Senatorial session under the new order, first everything. Sick of the crowds gathering to mourn Aunt Padmé, most of them fancy politicians in even fancier clothes who Pooja had never met, expressing their condolences while Pooja itched in fancy tights.

Winternight had come as ever. Sentients could change the order of the galaxy, even terraform planets to bring colder or weather warmer earlier, but no one—so far—had figured out a way to stop the turning of the seasons.

Green and gold napkins adorned the table; Papa was retrieving warm highbread from the oven, and Grandmother was wearing a thick blue dress. As the youngest child responsible enough to bear a flame, Pooja struck a match—which only took her two tries—and began lighting the candles, one by one.

Ryoo's eyes were big in the firelight, but the adults turned away, lost in the memories of another young girl ready to cast light into the deep arms of the galaxy.

* * *

 _Solstice_

"Happy birthday, Rose," Paige smiled, giving her sister a slightly fiercer hug than usual.

Rose blinked. "It's not my birthday. Today's just the fifth of Nouwag."

"Sure," said Paige. "But this is the winter solstice on Coruscant, right? The longest night of the year. That's your birthday."

Rose glanced outside from the window of the forty-third floor apartment they shared with a couple other boarders. The same hovercars raced through the air as ever, the same fog was barely visible between the towering columns. The planet's surface was imperceptible below them. "So if we'd gone to some other world or something, we might have just skipped it?"

"Sure," said Paige breezily, "that's why we picked this one."

"Really?"

"No, that was a joke."

Rose scowled.

"Every planet has a solstice, short orbit or long," Paige went on. "It's good for you to have something to remember, so that you can celebrate. No matter where you are."

Paige's own birthday was on the fourteenth of Ranja. She didn't think much of Ranja; it was just a name. Some people said it had once represented the Alderaanian rainy season, some people said it was related to a Felucian deciduous tree, others claimed it alluded to a Dantooinian god of war. The superstitions were dumb, Paige figured. They hadn't protected Dantooinian from chaos and bloodshed, and Alderaan's rains were annihilated along with the rest of the planet. Better to give Rose something deeper than names, something she could honor no matter where the First Order drove them.

"Besides," Paige grinned, "if we don't celebrate today, what am I going to do with the extra _logeda_ in the freezer?"

Rose immediately turned from the window, all thought of calendars forgotten. Marginally colder it may have been, but it was never too cold for _logeda_.

* * *

 _Bonfires_

Trails of smoke disappeared into the ash-dark sky as Shidew huddled close to the bonfire. "The young ones are waking," he pointed out. "It is almost day."

"What is day?" challenged Bonwis, one of the elders.

"Day means that there will be other tribes waiting and wondering," said Shidew. "We must seek them out."

"You cannot wander away," Bonwis chided. "Too far, too dark! You will be lost, lost in the smoke."

"What if they are looking for us?" Shidew argued. "We cannot just stand here!"

"Will running away make the smoke clear or the grasses bloom? You know it will not."

"Human beasts are cruel, cruel," said Narra. "They lure us to death, then lay the moon waste in their destruction, then flee from here in their ships while they leave us to perish."

"Yes, yes," said Bonwis. "We ought to have eaten them as is the ancient way. We would grow strong and they would find true glory serving the golden heralds."

"We could have gone!" Shidew protested. "Those pilots offered us a ride, and you said no, that we needed the trees and the vines."

"Who are we without the world that sustains us?" Narra asked.

"We are free people," said Shidew. "Still, today, living people. If you will do nothing but sit and wait for death, I will find those who carry on."

"It is futile to roam," Narra said.

"If you believe the world is truly an empty shell, old man, then you have no power over me."

Shidew did not mourn; there was no time to mourn. So many had already been killed in the battle. Using the fire's glow to orient himself, he trekked away, searching for light on the horizon, while his homeland receded from view behind him.

* * *

 _Ghost Stories_

Once, long ago, they say, there was a child who flew like the vultures. He could steer among cliffs and outcrops with the skill of a Malastarian, and built his own crafts as if he were part-droid.

This much the stories agree upon: that once, when no one thought humankind equal to their visitors, he held his own and triumphed. From there, the tellings diverge.

Some say he was restless and could not return to a simple life, having competed on a tremendous stage and taken careless risks with his life. So he turned to war, shooting down traitors above distant planets, and never felt content unless he was engaged in combat.

Some say that, despite his agility and intelligence, he had been consigned to the life of a slave. He changed hands among many masters, who used him as they saw fit, but never found freedom and never returned to the confines where he had first learned servitude.

Some say that he was no true human, but a wizard and a cheat. His victory was nothing to take pride in, but only an aberration, a sign that he wielded powers no normal human could aspire to. So he was cast aside, having no abiding kinship with those he resembled, until he became a cyborg. Those, at least, both humans and droids could understand.

And still others say that some part of him never left the planet. That at night, when the rush of the day's labor has gone to bed and the temperature drops, when the suns rise and fall, that he soars again amid the dust and rocks. And that children see him, marvelling, and turn their eyes to the heavens.

* * *

 _"Where the love-light gleams"_

Some of Mandi's friends teased her for being so fond of the monarchy when she, and they, privately held the Empire to be a bit of a farce and admired the old Republic, for all its flaws. But Alderaan meant something different, she told them. Women's patience and counsel, the wisdom of the ages handed down to guide them? Weren't they fortunate to live on such a well-stewarded planet?

Besides, it was common knowledge that royal blood didn't matter. Princess Leia had been adopted at a young age; she had neither her mother's complexion nor her father's height, but that made no difference. She performed her ceremonial duties well, and those in the know said she'd make a wonderful queen someday.

The Princess had not made many public appearances in recent months. At the rose planting ceremony the past spring, outside the palace, Queen Breha had explained that Leia was off serving in the Senate. It did make Mandi wonder what kept the young politician so busy when her senior colleagues on other planets seemed to have plenty of time to keep in touch with constituents back home. Was the Senate really that busy?

Well, the garden rituals were mostly for show too, but it mattered to Mandi. The individual flowers would bloom and wither, but no matter what took place in the Imperial corridors of power, the patterns of the seasons lived on, one year to the next.

As she passed by the palace on speeder-bike, the Guardswomen stood outside, their bright colors only visible in the lights from inside the palace. A high window stood illuminated, and Mandi briefly wondered if Viceroy Bail was working late.

There were many burdens to being a figurehead, she knew, and the potential of entering into a marriage for political reasons was high among them. Yet to all appearances, the first couple of Alderaan had, over the years, genuinely become a love-match. Amid so many ill-fated schemes and mishaps, surely that was something to be thankful for.

* * *

 _Life Day_

Maz's was full of even more long-furred, out-of-tune visitors than usual. Some sang anthems of thanksgiving; others merely savored the food on display.

Chewbacca gave Maz a small, ungainly-wrapped package. She picked open the packaging to find a dark green gown that might have fit a Wookiee toddler.

"Why, you old charmer, you really shouldn't have!" she exclaimed.

" _It was the least I could do. If it goes out of style, you can hang it up on your wall with the other relics_ ," Chewie responded in Shyriiwook.

"Out of style?" said Maz. "Nonsense. People will talk, of course, but let them."

" _The style is several centuries old_ ," Chewie explained. " _A little modern by your standards, but nothing shocking._ "

Maz gave a small bow. "I wish you flourishing and tranquility, my friend, this Life Day and always."

" _The same to you,_ " said Chewie. " _Now, if it is not too much trouble, would you mind helping me settle a bet with Han?_ "

"As long as I don't have to inspect sabacc hands," Maz said, walking over to join their table.

"Right," Han nodded. "Maz, you've seen it all; I was wondering if the young people you know—pirates, First Order sympathizers, fuel smugglers, the crowd—do they celebrate Life Day?"

" _I am convinced they do,_ " Chewie explained. " _Even if you are not a Wookiee, who does not appreciate taking a day off of work to feast with loved ones?_ "

"And I think this guy's got his head in a nebula," said Han. "Kids these days, they think Life Day is too sincere, too old-fashioned for 'em."

Maz paused, draping the gown over her arm. "I think you are both correct."

" _See!_ " Chewie set down his drink with a thud. " _I told you she'd have some cop-out of an answer_."

"Lots of people celebrate Life Day, but what one generation appreciates about it may not be the same as another."

"What do you mean?" Han asked.

"Well, a young Twi'lek acquaintance of mine also offered me a festive gift," said Maz, nodding at a refrigerator. "A cheese wheel made with fresh thala-siren milk. Of course I'm terribly allergic, but I suppose it's the thought that counts."

* * *

 _Crystal_

Baze watched as the strange young woman hurried to catch up to her impatient companion. "Are you sure that was a good idea?" he whispered to Chirrut, who had been about to resume his chanting.

"Pretending to be psychic?" he said. "I thought you enjoyed the con?"

"No," said Baze. "Yes, I mean, I do, but what kind of person goes around wearing kyber around her neck! In Jedha City no less."

"Well," said Chirrut, lowering his voice and moving away from the crowded path, "I can think of a few."

"Shoot."

"Firstly, there would be the bold despot. An Imperial officer who not only destroys our sacred places, but flaunts it in the middle of the holy city. Someone of great confidence."

"She seemed a little young to hold that high a rank," Baze admitted.

"Good to know. Second: a Force-sensitive seeking a weapon. Knowing what she has at her disposal, but not how to use it."

"I suspect she might be a bit more careful with it in that case," said Baze. "Not draping it around her neck for all to see."

"Very insightful. Thirdly: she's a local, and knows it's meaningful here even if she doesn't think it serves any particular purpose."

"She didn't look local," Baze reflected. "She looked like she didn't like it here, and wanted to leave in a hurry."

"Well, then," said Chirrut. "That leaves the fourth option; she has no idea what it represents, but it is significant to her in some way, and her travels just happen to bring her to Jedha."

"That seems an awfully improbable coincidence."

"Perhaps it is the will of the Force, that she should find herself here."

"I take it back," said Baze. "It's a perfectly reasonable coincidence."

* * *

 _White Elephant Exchange_

Galen Erso sat on the bridge of the _Wraith_ , drinking some cider. The view of the ringed planetary system outside was spectacular, but he did not expect anyone to join him. The Imperial High Command had its own frivolities to maintain.

Then he heard the hissing behind him that heralded the arrival of Darth Vader. Had he been found out? Was this how the Emperor chose to make an example of him? Alone, amidst the merrymaking?

Steeling himself, he turned and nodded to Vader. "Good evening, sir."

"Hello," said Vader, sound distorted from behind his mouthpiece. "...Erso, is it?"

"Yes," said Galen, only slightly less anxious.

"What brings you here this evening, Erso?"

"Merely, ah, admiring the view, my Lord."

"Hmm." Vader stared as if his mask could see through Galen, through the planet, into the utmost reaches of the galaxy. "You are not participating in the exchange of presents?"

"No, my Lord."

"Whyever not?"

Scarcely daring to believe _Darth Vader_ was curious about the nuances of gift-giving, Erso blurted, "I feel as if it is a waste of time and credits, sir. Were we to exchange gifts of value, or that had meaning to the recipient, I would be happy to do so. I think it is important for morale and camaraderie that we can all give to each other, from cadets to Grand Moffs. But swapping worthless trinkets for the sake of spending time together...why? It feels a meaningless distraction."

"You think the effort expended on obtaining these items could be put to better use?"

"Indeed."

"Hmm," said Vader. "You are an officer of rare intelligence, Erso. I will need to inquire about securing you a promotion."

"Sir?"

"Too many of our finest beings are squandering their potential on distractions such as these. I will not have our mighty Empire fall prey to childish games."

Had _Vader_ been invited to participate in the exchange? What would anyone get him—surely he had no need of candies or garish socks. "I respect your wisdom, my Lord."

"Have a pleasant evening," said Vader, pacing off. "I am sure whatever use you find for it will be superior to the alternative."

* * *

 _Silver and Blue_

The woman had a human shape, by the looks of her, but she stood in a blue haze against the silver starlight of Ruwa's second moon. "Good evening."

Leia looked her up and down. Though her face was completely unfamiliar, the concept matched what Luke had described. "Are you a ghost?"

"Afraid so," she said.

"I'm...not really sure what protocol is," Leia admitted. "I think it's my brother you want. He's over...on the bright side of the planet, looking at crystals."

"You are Leia Organa?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Inzla Suunter."

"I'm afraid that means nothing to me."

"I wouldn't expect it to," said Inzla. "In life I was mostly a...naturalist, of sorts. A recorder of rare plants, recording their properties. Not very exciting work, but I was fond of it."

"And in death?"

"Well, I am a ghost, as you've so thoughtfully mentioned."

"I don't mean to offend."

"Oh, there's nothing offensive about speaking the truth," said Inzla.

"So," said Leia, in the _step-by-step communicating to a toddler_ dialect she was finding herself more familiar with, "what do you want with me?"

"To wish you a blessed First-Flowering, and, er, all sweet things in the coming year."

"You're Alderaanian?" Leia gasped.

"I was born on Eadu, actually, though I don't remember it. Alderaan was where I did most of my study, centuries ago now."

Leia squinted, and took in the belt at Inzla's waist, the light robe draped about her translucent form. "You were a Jedi."

"Quite so."

"Well...um. It was nice of you to come out all this way, I suppose, and a blessed First-Flowering to you in return."

"No trouble at all," said Inzla.

"Do you do this every year?"

"No," she said. "There are few who would appreciate the gesture, and fewer still with a connection to the Force." At Leia's curious glance, she went on, "Your father sends his regards, but thought a personal visit might not be appreciated."

Leia rolled her eyes. "You can tell him he can come visit me when it's not a defunct holiday."

"Duly noted."

"And not when I'm in office, either, I have enough staff who think I'm loony as is."

"Understood."

"And maybe not when I have a toddler awake to entertain."

Inzla smiled. "I think he will be sympathetic."

* * *

 _Starlit Night_

"Dameron?" Vice-Admiral Holdo asked.

"Yes, ma'am?" said Poe.

"What have you ascertained about the position of the moon?"

"Uh...it's at about a half-moon cycle, I think."

"And what information does that tell you?"

"Well," said Poe, "it will be reasonably light on the planetside at night if we need to attempt a ground assault. If we need to land on the lunar surface, I would suggest approaching from the far side, to avoid some of the volcanic activity that's been observed on the near craters."

"Astutely noticed, Commander. Anything else?"

"Not that I'm aware of. There's no native fauna there, as far as I know, but during the Imperial era there were several attempts made to terraform the surface, and the thick atmosphere is congenial to fungal life."

"Did you observe that it was in the third quadrant?"

"The...third quadrant of what, ma'am?"

"Standard Coruscanti astrological projection."

"I'm...afraid I don't follow."

"This signifies peace and empathy in the coming age. Once the outer satellites are aligned with the near asteroid field, this planet will experience a resurgence of tranquility."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Of course."

Poe gulped.

"That's no excuse for inactivity, however. It may be years before such a syzygy comes to pass, and we cannot be complacent in the meantime. To stations!"

Poe nodded, hustling to the hangar. Life on the _Ninka_ was a lot stranger than he'd been led to believe.

* * *

 _Mountain Lake_

On the mountain ridge, all was still. No vehicles zoomed or buzzed, no fuel stations lit up, no native animals grazed. Even the lake was quiet, a light blue mirror of the yellow skies above.

Then a human form emerged from a cave, blaster at the ready. "Clear."

"No movement from below," said a droid, pivoting to face her human friend.

"You think it's a trap?" Lando walked over to join her, still not lowering his blaster.

"I don't think so," L3 said, after a moment's reflection. "I think there's just nothing here that the Empire wants."

"You sell yourself short," he pointed out. "I'm sure they'd be glad to have your schematics, after Geonosis."

"You're the one on the wanted ads," said L3. "They don't believe a droid would be autonomous enough to do that."

Conceding her point, Lando returned to the cave entrance. "I think a real-space barrier would be impractical here. Probably faster just to set an acoustic trap—overwhelm anyone who approaches unless they have the passkey, then radio that to Qi'ra once we've hopped to another system."

"What does she see in this place?" L3 asked.

"No enemies, no rivals, no jaded operatives?" said Lando. "Seems like a pretty fair deal to me."

"There's no….network. No technology. Nothing to link into."

"I think that's how she likes it. She's from a city, she likes the change of pace."

" _I'm_ from a city."

Lando tried to bite back the obvious rejoinder of _it's different for you._ Sustenance to Qi'ra was water and food, not the circuits and recharging L3 relied on. But all the same…

"It's all right," L3 said, as if sensing his hesitation. "We all have different strengths and weaknesses, right? That's what makes the economy work."

"I'll take your word for it."

She tossed him the encoded chip. "Get to cracking. I'll pull up the ship, and we can head somewhere with a web."

Lando didn't need telling twice.

* * *

 _Cold Snap_

Wedge didn't pay much attention to the slight weather changes in Yavin IV. There were too many broader trends to keep up with: the movements of Imperial troops, money flowing into and out of the Outer Rim, whether the Emperor had gotten around to dissolving the Senate yet.

But Toryn was ever-alert about keeping people up to date with all the fluctuations, no matter how trivial. "The cold front is wearing off, we should be finally getting some real heat. Humidity will increase in a couple days and hang steady until the winds move in."

"Real heat?" Biggs Darklighter scoffed. "This is nothing, back at Anchorhead it was once so hot, the droids shut down."

Wedge rolled his eyes. The way Biggs went on about it, Tatooine was a world of galactic extremes, rather than a rural outpost of no importance. "That's because Anchorhead only has the one droid and it hasn't been updated since the days of the Old Republic."

"Hey!" Biggs retorted. "We have a thriving trade in protocol droids."

"What kind of protocol do you need on Tatooine? Don't drag sand into the house? Put the one fork at the center of the table so everyone can share?"

Biggs spluttered, but Wedge knew he took no offense. For all the Rebellion's leaders preached unity in the face of opposition, it was a relief to be able to fall back on good-natured teasing. Their diversity was an asset, of course, but it could also be a source of humor in the dark times.

Still, Wedge would be happy if he never heard one more raving reminiscence about the glories of Tosche Station.

* * *

 _Beach_

When they are alone they can be ferocious with each other. Not because they enjoy inflicting pain, or have become inured to it. But because they believe that in receiving it, welcoming it, they can infuse it with meaning. Someone else's pride and trust. If it is still not fairness, not a counterstroke rained down by the galaxy for everything they have done, it's still a tiny step towards bridging the gap.

Silently, they dream of closure, of escaping from the grinds they have chosen. Running away would be easy—together, they could take down whatever was in their way. But remaining apart, the weight of responsibility hanging beyond them in every gravitational system, would be impossible.

So Cassian feels no pity for Tivik, there at the end. His death is swift and buys the cause time, and comes in the arms of someone he cared for.

Cassian should be so lucky.

* * *

 _Wassailing_

"We are neighbors' children," Leia chorused, "whom you have seen before..."

"I thought you said you've never seen General Draven," C-3PO pointed out, "since you try to keep out of his way."

"Who invited you?" Han asked. "Droids can't sing."

"I beg your pardon! I am programmed with knowledge of more than five dozen melodic cultural traditions,and can direct you in the appropriate use for each."

"Yearsdawn is a time for singing," said Leia, "not for commentary."

R2 beeped in protest.

"That's a good point," Luke quietly told him. Mon Mothma's neighbors didn't seem to have many vocal children; on Yavin IV her loft had been below the nests of redbirds and fernswoopers. Now, on Hoth, her quarters were in a hallway mostly occupied by droids.

Mon laughed. "I would invite you in for a drink or a recharge, but I suspect your friends in Rogue Squadron have you more than covered on that front."

"That's alright," said Leia. "We should move on if we're going to hit up Ackbar's before it gets too cold."

"It's already too cold," Han argued. "His desserts better be worth it."

"They will be," she said. "You haven't celebrated Yearsdawn until you've had his moonbursts."

The others took her word for it and followed her onwards, while Draven returned to his quarters to get out of the cold. Mon watched them depart. Sometimes she was reminded how young Leia and her comrades were.

It was just coincidence, surely, that she occasionally reminded Mon of her onetime neighbor in Senate chambers and late-night discussions. After long enough at war, everyone's face began blurring together.

* * *

 _Aurora_

"Have you heard what we're building?" GS-0128 asked.

" _We_ are not building anything," said RC-0343. "The officers get to design and strategize and carry out great works. You and I, we stand guard."

"What the First Order is building, then."

"Don't talk like you're not part of the First Order, that's seditious talk." _Unless you're into that kind of thing_ , she privately added, but she'd never figured GS-0128 for a dissident.

"A machine," GS-0128 went on, "that can harness the power of an entire star."

"That's nice."

"A star! Think about the kinds of things we could do with that. Throw off the entire magnetosphere so the planets would see aurorae around the clock. Even the equatorial regions!"

"I don't think that's really what the leadership goes for."

"Aurorae are beautiful," said GS-0128. "Well, the holovids I've seen of them, anyway. Maybe the Supreme Leader's home planet has a lot of them."

"Maybe," RC-0343 conceded.

"Or it could be affecting sunspots. We could get so many controlled experiments that way, manipulating stars! I'm sure our scientists are really excited about it."

"Mhm." RC-0343 inspected her blaster.

"Or..." GS-0128 lowered her voice, although it was difficult to tell behind the mask. "Maybe it could be aimed at our enemies."

"I think that's probably the idea, yeah."

"How about a gravity distorter? Stars could collapse to black holes, just like _that_! Or slow down the rate of fusion, so the right elements don't get synthesized, really throw off advanced hyperspace-engine construction..."

"I'm just going to wait until Phasma tells me what to aim at."

"If it works, maybe they'll even build more of them. So grunts like us can operate them."

"Won't that be a thrill," said RC-0343, pacing off before GS-0128 could detect her sarcasm.

* * *

 _A Snowball's Chance on Mustafar_

"This place is so...dreary," Leia summarized, making her way through the hallways of the _Sentinel_.

"Really?" Han teased. "Gray on gray panels not your preferred color scheme? Lando's fashion tastes really have been wearing off on you."

She ignored him, but smiled. The ship had been a relic of the days when the Alliance was desperate for anything it could get its limbs on, but they had never found a good use for it when the galaxy was at war. While its internal defenses were a match for almost anything the old Republic had to boast, its hyperspace capacities were pitiful.

If someone had told her, a day before the war ended, what use it would be put to, she still might not have believed them.

R2 whirred as they reached the door to the secure wing, presenting their pupils (and in R2's case, upper camera) for examination. The door confirmed their identities, then let them in.

"Good afternoon," Anakin said. His new vocal synthesizer still sounded oddly high-pitched, a far cry from the intimidating voice that had threatened them so often.

Leia nodded. "Hello," Luke said. R2 continued to warble.

"Nothing is new," Anakin pointed out. "If anything of interest happened here I'm sure Alliance High Command would be instantly notified."

"You're calling me uninteresting?" Han rebutted. "I'll have you know I'm renowned for my conversational skills in four systems."

Part of him felt like he was just playing a part, acting a smuggler when he was still coming to terms with being so much more, and less. But if it made Leia feel more at ease, then it was the least he could do.

"We were just talking about this place," said Leia. "It's not the most aesthetic ship."

"There are planets I do not need to revisit," Anakin pointed out. "A ship is a ship."

"Easy for you to say," said Luke. "I mean, someone who's been flying for decades. Just the other day I got to try a TIE fighter for the first time!"

"Where did you find one of those?"

"Corellia, actually. Some rehabilitated troopers were trying to melt them down for scrap, but they could be useful for transport missions..."

They started arguing minutiae, and Han could only shake his head. The only thing stranger than casually spending an afternoon with Darth Vader was watching him get defensive about ship opinions.

He caught Leia looking at him, questioningly. "I'm not _that_ petty, am I?"

"You are," she said. "It's why I love you."

"One of the many reasons," he said. But she was right, of course; Leia loved him for his obsessive spacecraft knowledge, even as—in a very different way—she loved Luke's insistency.

And some part of her loved Anakin Skywalker. A cyborg encased half in the Rebellion's newest medical equipment, half in his old apparatus that nobody had figured out to replace. Cut off from the Force, willingly, with only Luke to vouch for him at first. And then Leia.

"I don't have to like it," she'd explained. "But we—the galaxy has lost so much. I don't want to kill him, not if we can learn from him."

"You don't need to be a Jedi," Han had said. "Any more than you need to be a politician or a general or anything else. You're yourself, can't that be enough?"

"Of course it is," Leia replied. "But I want this, for myself."

If she had come at first for knowledge, she returned of her own choice, as Luke did. And R2. And Han, to his own surprise; making conversation with Vader was still unusual, but at least the man got to the point and avoided politician-ese like most of Leia's other friends.

Even without the Force, he seemed to recognize Han's incredulity. "I would not have thought there was a snowball's chance on Mustafar I would be here, either," Anakin said. "But I suppose the Force is not through with me yet."

"On where?" Leia asked, and R2 beeped in curiosity.

"That," said Anakin, "is a story for another time."

Well, Han supposed, geography was not high on the Alliance's list of facts to glean from him. But there would be another time, and a time after that, and another, and maybe that was miracle enough.


End file.
